Sam's Room
by EpicWinner
Summary: What does Sam's room actually look like? Freddie wants to know. Seddie Implied/Pre-Seddie  Click. Review. Fave.   The best cycle. CRF! 3 Kara


(FPOV)

"It's right through there." Sam's mom said, in between chewing the chips that she oh so graciously shoved into her mouth. I walked down the Puckett's main hallway and turned left down a corridor. Sam had been too lazy to go get the notecards that Carly had kindly printed out for her, so she sent me to go get them. I seriously don't get why Carly insists on giving her them, it's just a waste of paper.

I'm actually kind of excited; because this would technically be the first time I go into Sam's room. I mean sure, I've seen the tacky living room décor, but I'm pretty interested in what her room actually looks like. I get to the end of the hallway and see two doors. One has a pink sign on it with the name Melanie written on it in script and flowers bordering the letters. Okay, so apparently Melanie is real, because there is absolutely NO way that Sam could've written that. I look to the other door and sure enough, there's a brown corkboard with purple bordering swirls around what looks like Styrofoam letters that spell out Sam. Of course, there is a warning sign above the doorknob that specifically tells you how and when Sam will find and murder you if you come into her room without permission. Oh, Sam; gotta love her. Yes, I do, in a sense, love Sam. Not in a romantic way (I Think) or in a sisterly way. More like, well I don't necessarily know how to explain it. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, turn the doorknob, and push.

"Oh. My. God." My mouth gapes open as I survey the room in front of me. The walls are a light purple, like Carly's, but they're almost completely covered. On the far wall is her mirror with the words "You are beautiful" written on it in what seems to be red lipstick and there are clippings from magazines all over it. From beauty to fashion to exercise, it's all on that wall. On the right wall is her window, which is surprisingly decorate with a single sunflower, and isn't covered in trash like I expected it to be. That wall however, is covered in what seems to be recipes for food, which makes sense because Sam loves to eat, but never has money and her mom doesn't cook. On the wall that the door is on, her desk is there with her dresser, closet and multiple beanbag chairs. The desk has pieces of paper scattered across it, with poems on some, and drawings on others, a camera sits prestigiously atop a pile of books that I didn't even know Sam read. Though the most fascinating wall of all was the wall to the left side of her room. There was a normal, queen sized bed, with brown and purple bedding, there was a bunny rabbit sitting on her bed, but I'm going to act like I never saw anything so she doesn't decide to kill me, and a book that I had been reading earlier in the month had a bookmark stuck into close to the end of the book and was propped up against her pillow, right next to her bunny. But that's not the cool part. The cool part is that the whole left wall is nearly covered in multi-colored post-it's with little ideas on them. I've heard of writers doing that, waking up with an inspiration and writing it down ASAP, but I never thought of Sam as a writer. Guess there's a lot about her I don't know.

Now don't get me wrong, it's not that her room wasn't a mess, because it was. There were clothes thrown around on the cherry wood floor, swipes of mascara across her mirror, barbeque fingerprints on her window frame, there were what I think were mustard stains on the rug under her bed, and the aroma of meatballs and vanilla, her scent, filled the room. But I didn't mind.

I walked around the room a few times, half looking for the notecards, half looking around some more in depth. I finally found the notecards, and I was about to walk away when I spotted a picture on her dresser. It was of Me, Sam, and Carly after we had won the web award in Japan. We were all smiling so wide, it was ridiculous. I remember that moment perfectly, because it was the one time Sam and I hugged, and she didn't hurt me afterwards. In the picture, Sam and I were standing next to each other, smiling at the same camera with my arm around her, and Carly was looking off at another camera, seeming almost distant and not belonging in the shot. Frowning upon seeing this, I gingerly took the picture out of its frame and folded it so that only Sam and I were showing. I put it back in the frame and smiled. It looked better that way, with just Sam and me. I picked back up the notecards and headed out, making sure to close the door to Sam's room behind me and thanking Ms. Puckett for letting me over. I started to make my way back to Bushwell Plaza, but couldn't seem to get the picture in my head, and the fact that it just looked better with me and Sam.


End file.
